But I can’t see it right now…
I have been asked by a lot of people recently, to describe depression. What exactly is it? What does it do to your brain?
The only way that I can think to describe it, is to say that it is like being surrounded by happy things, things that would normally make you smile, but there is a mist in front of you. You can’t escape it because it’s everywhere. But you can still see the things that make you happy. You just can’t get to them. And when you feel anxious, it is like the tightest corset, that you just can’t take off. It just gets tighter the more that you breathe.
It’s the voice in your head that works to tell you that you aren’t good enough, that your joke wasn’t funny and that no one likes you. It is louder than the voice that is really you. Kind and complimentary to me and who I am.
I want to be happy but sometimes it just seems so far away….
The things that I normally love to do, like reading and laughing and being a part of a (small) group at times, aren’t working the same way that they were before.
But here’s the thing. I have a killer memory. I remember happily telling people that I spent my whole Saturday in a bookshop reading anything and buying everything that I could possibly afford. I remember going for long drives to new places and exploring. I remember birthdays and jokes and smiles. I keep them close because they provide the light that I need sometimes. I have been happy and I will be again. For longer. I will be fine.
I will say calmly to that rude voice in my head “Bye Felicia” and go about my business. Because, yes, it is a wonderful world. I can see it and I want to be a proper part of it.
Now. If my memory serves me correctly, I mentioned a Friday surprise. Trust me, it’s coming. I hope you like it.
Have a great week. But if you don’t, then let someone know.
All the best,